Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
She throws her head back when she comes, changing the rhythm to long, drawn-out strokes. The ends of her hair brush against my stomach as she raises her head like she’s going to wolf-cry to the moon. But she doesn’t. She just pants and breathes heavily through the pleasure.
I somehow manage to hold on, even with her rippling all around me, to let her take her pleasure without changing up the position. When I’m fried on that front, I grasp her hips and rock her hard. She rides with me, whimpering and gasping for air, her pussy still spasming all around my cock.
“Can I come inside you?” The question sounds rude, but so is doing it, or not doing it, depending on her response.
“Y-yes. P-please do.”
My balls practically climb into my body as the first waves of pleasure rock me. It’s not just experiencing such a strong climax that makes for an almost out-of-body experience and some semi-mortifying shaking. It’s Carissa coming right along with me. It’s her joy and pleasure that make this so incredible. It’s the heat of her and the pulsing waves of her tight heat wrapped around me that makes me keep coming and coming until I might truly be in danger of fracturing apart.
The hard truth? I never wrote or sang love songs, not just because Matt thought they were stupid, but because I didn’t believe in them that way. Every song I wrote—every lyric, every note—was an act of love, and for me, that was enough. I have a whole fanbase whom I could give love to. I knew love from my grandmother in a familial way. I had the love of friends at one point, although I’m not sure that ever fully goes away. But romantic love? I never told myself I didn’t believe in it, but I guess part of me gave up on it long before I arranged for a fake girlfriend. I didn’t believe it was possible to connect with another person on this level. All those other songs that were coming out and being made famous by the people writing them and singing them were great for them, but I didn’t buy into it, at least for me. For others? It was great for them. Looking back, I can see that part of me was jealous.
And how a great big part of me just didn’t understand.
I’d never found a person I could understand with.
Carissa slides off me with more ease and grace than I have at the moment. Then, she turns around and spreads out on the couch with me. There’s not much room with my big body doing its best deadweight impression, but that just means she has to arrange herself half on top of me.
She nuzzles her face into my neck, her body going limp. She’s so warm. So trusting. Her breaths tickle my ear with every exhale. I’m sticky, and she’s a little bit sticky too.
This is better than anything I’ve felt on stage in a very long time. Maybe at the beginning of it all, I’d get that wild rush. And I still do, before every show, but it fades with time. This is the rush, but it’s also the peace. That’s the aspect that was always missing. This is a different sensation entirely. It’s not just the aftermath of coming down from all that pleasure. It’s not my brain going haywire just because it felt intensely good for a while. Whatever it is that has drawn us together, I haven’t felt with any other person.
My brain screams at me to run and take cover and search for safety immediately.
But my gut instinct, maybe even my heart, says to stay. Be steadfast. Trust.
Carissa raises her head and looks into my face at exactly the moment when I’m warring with myself. My emotions are overflowing from my eyes, and it’s all there for her to read.
Her lips don’t thin out or get pinched. She doesn’t shove herself off me, call me an imbecile, or accuse me of having doubts, all while I sold her on some line of security just so I could get into her pants.
“How are you doing?” She draws a small circle on my chest.
“Trying to catch my breath.”
Something flashes across her face, but she never closes herself off. She’s just straight-up vulnerable. “That’s a good way to put it. I hear that.”
Not just physically. It’s wild to know someone for so long and then realize that, all this time, they were just waiting right there to catch you. To stabilize you, change your whole life, and be the one who can crack your known universe right in half and overflow it with a tidal wave of wonderful things you could only ever have dreamed of.
It’s crazy to feel that way after such a short time, isn’t it?